


Disintegrate

by Zade_Kassel



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zade_Kassel/pseuds/Zade_Kassel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrote this at my friend's request. Or rather, it was a fic that I’d started writing that was soon made obsolete by later updates and never completed. But then I rewrote and finished it. Enjoy.</p><p>What happens when your boyfriend turns into Lord English.</p><p>TW: Abuse, violence, non-con, Jake/Lord English, mentions of college life, AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disintegrate

The first punch caught him unawares. Dirk fell back, cradling his cheek as he stared at the man who’d stepped in front of him, slipping a hand around his throat. Dirk was pressed against the wall.

“I’ve been craving this for ages, love.”

“Another kink? If you’d wanted to spice things up you could’ve just told me, Jake.”

Jake’s lips slid into a grin. It was a little too wide and held for a little too long.

“Gosh. Youre such an idiot, Strider.” Jake’s thumb pressed into his neck. Dirk’s mouth twitched in irritation. “Such. An idiot.”

Jake’s smile beamed at him, eyes shining with a level of excitement Dirk hadn’t seen for a long time.

**xXx**

The first time he saw him, really saw him, they were on a high school field trip. Jake English was standing across the grass, slightly away from the group of other students, eyes wandering over the edge of the wet bank to the long drop below. It seemed like his attention had wandered away from the speaker, which was understandable because Dirk’s had left too. Though that was more because the tour guide was completely repeating of all the information he’d already researched and accumulated beforehand, and his mind was spinning on completely different gears now, and maybe working on a few inspirational lyrics or two in the process.

Jake’s eyes darted up, glancing back at the tour guide and then grazing over his own. Jake grinned. Handsome. Brilliant white teeth on a bespectacled face. Copper skin glowing in the midday sun. Green eyes.

Just as Dirk was arranging himself to do something―you know, maybe nod his head back or salute his shades―Jake half-turned and leaped over the barrier, racing to the edge. Shouts. Cheers. Screams from some of the girls as they noticed him running. The tour guide cut off in mid-monologue. Jake ignored them all. He took a running leap straight over the cliff, into the waterfall, screaming something along the lines of “Kowabungaaaaa” before it got cut off by the roar of falling water as he went beneath it.

**\---**

When Jake resurfaced later, to everyone’s surprise he wasn’t injured with anything more than a broken arm and a case of a really stupid grin. No, correction, he had already sported the latter long before. And when asked why, he said that it was because one of his favorite films had been shot here, at this location, from that very vantage point where the lead actor jumped from. And he wanted to prove he could be just as awesome as him.

It was really stupid, Dirk thought. Besides the fact that the film was actually quite a mediocre choice―some B-action film from the 60s played by a substandard actor who bombed in his later career―even the notion to do something as life-threatening as jumping off a waterfall was absolutely preposterous. The scene re-ran through his mind. Jake’s running leap over the falls. The shock of his classmates. That smile Jake flashed him right before he did it. He found he couldn’t really feel mad about it, as stupid as he still thought it was. Jake English, huh?

Their teacher/chaperone hurried over to have a private “chat” with English after the medics declared him stable and okay, and the other kids gathered into groups of their own, muttering whispers to each other.

“That was fucking crazy, right?”

Dirk looked over at the acne-ridden teen next to him, smiling at him like they had some sort of secret they would share. Dirk just gave the kid a look.

The guy backed off, shooting him a weird little expression as he went to join a group of people who actually wanted to gossip about it. It wasn’t exactly anything new that Dirk could be a bit… standoffish, sometimes. Honestly he just preferred to interact with people he found interesting. And most of his class and what they enjoyed talking about, he didn’t.

**xXx**

When Jake tried to punch him again, they fought. He probably could’ve won if he could manage to get his hand on a weapon. One of the katanas he kept scattered around the house. A kitchen knife. Hell, even a remote control might do.

But Jake had anticipated that, keeping him from pressing any form of advantage. He kept him off-balance, pinned him down with his heavier body weight, cut off any real openings Dirk might have been able to manipulate and use to escape, evading any more serious attack Dirk tried to throw with an easy smirk.

When he’d finally wrestled and pinned Dirk completely beneath him, Jake reached back and pulled out a rope, seemingly from nowhere. This was so not fun anymore.

Dirk managed to slide his arm out from underneath Jake’s leg, and in a flash reached up to jab the guy in the neck. It connected. Jake faltered for a moment, choking and dropping the rope, and Dirk almost slid out completely from underneath him. Then Jake’s rope slipped around his neck, yanking him backwards.

His hands automatically grabbed for the rope around his throat, though his logical brain told him it’d be better to attack one of Jake’s open spots now and free himself that way, and before he could switch modes the rope tightened, choking him more thoroughly. Jake clambered back on top of him, pinning him down once more. The rest of the rope was wrapped around his limbs, immobilizing him. Once Jake was certain that the knots were secure enough, he flipped him over and stood up. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, flicking it on. And grinned.

Dirk was starting to hate that smile.

**xXx**

The second time they met, they were in college. Dirk had chosen a pretty interesting university, full of kids that had been raised on straight As and honors classes and with a little bit more money than they actually needed. Needless to say, when he went to orientation, it was kind of a shock to get a glimpse of the kid across the room, the same kid who’d leaped into a waterfall and would apparently be attending the same uni as him. Admittedly he wasn’t sure how the guy’s grades were, but he really hadn’t seemed like the type.

Later in the first week of classes, Dirk sat in the back corner of the caf he’d adapted for his own privacy, away from all the riff-raff and “study groups” that were really only excuses for sneaked socialization. His fingers pecked away at the keyboard as he updated a post about his latest creation for sale. It wasn’t a secret that he was into robotics. The bigger scale ones he was actually really proud of, he usually kept for his own growing collection. But the smaller stuff, or the stuff he wasn’t as fond of, or his older shit that couldn’t be used for anything but nostalgia and saying “this was made by Dirk Strider’s hands get a load of it”? That stuff he usually sold off to the highest bidder.

He actually had quite a following and tried to make sure he kept it up. It provided him with quite a bit of extra chump change, which he usually turned around to buy more parts for future projects, repairs, and the latest albums whenever his favorite artists came out. Not to be hipster about it, but everyone knew the best shit was spread underground.

He shut his laptop and nearly jumped out of his seat, reaching for a katana that wasn’t there (since it was school and it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to wear a huge fucking weapon slung along his back) then calmed down once he realized there was no threat. The guy who snuck up on him was only Jake English. Not that he could qualify it as sneaking up on; he probably just had been too absorbed to realize the company. He'd have to work on that or he'd totally pay when he returned home over break.

“Hey! Long time no see! Remember me? Jake English, from Ms. B’s class?”

“Who could forget you? You were the single reason why field trips were permanently viewed as verboten hazardous enterprises at our school for our entire last year.”

“Oh man, that.” Jake laughed. “I thought I’d be able to pull that stunt off with a lot more gusto and finesse, but not everything can go smack-tootin right I guess.” His initial impression was concreted. The boy was an idiot. But a fine one, admittedly, he thought as Jake grinned again. “So, you want to join us? Me and my friends are sitting right over there."

“I have homework to finish.”

“Bullshit. It's the first week. If you have that much homework to finish I'll eat my own noggin."

"Somehow I suspect that's a biological impossibility."

"The point is! Come on, let's have fun. Let's have some mad adventure! You're the only one I know here from the old days. That makes us automatic chums."

"...Alright, youre on. But you'd better make this worth my time, English. I expect excitement and talking mountains with sword-swallowing clowns serenading me from hot air balloons here."

"Just remember. Before Dorothy could get to the wizard there was always that very first step on the golden brick road. So come on."

Jake jerked his head and Dirk stood up, packing up his laptop and following.

**\---**

Somehow they started hanging regularly, probably a mix between Jake’s earnestness and Dirk’s undeniable curiosity that kept him coming back for more.

Student Government. Jake had gotten involved not too long after he arrived, and after a few meetings, Dirk soon followed. He chatted and joked with the other student gov. members and happily participated in the ever-steady debates. And if he just happened to get the majority of Jakes attention during movie outing nights—slipping him a few bucks to get him the popcorn he was short on, sliding past the others to nab the seat right next to him, muttering critical and humorous observations into Jake’s ear while Jake laughed and murmured complimenting jokes back, and of course the traditional walk home afterwards—then what of it?

They sat together in the main caf when they saw one another. This was mostly eating and small-talking while reading various assignments or doing homework, and comparing notes on how pointless some of the first-year gen ed classes were. Sometimes Jake's friends were there. Sometimes they weren’t. Dirk preferred it when they weren’t.

He eventually visited Jake’s dorm and hung with his roommates, a dude that looked like he could solve a Rubik’s cube in 0.12 seconds flat and a guy with a goatee and weed shirt on that Dirk was pretty sure wasn’t even ironic. The nerdy one practically spoke in mathematic equations―guess what major he was―and the unironic weed-shirt goatee was a vegan hippie naturalist who didn’t quite have a gauge on where he wanted to go in his life and didn’t consider it that much of an important goal anyway. Half the time he tried to bake “magic brownies” in their oven and most of the time he burned them.

They weren’t so bad. When Dirk joined the party, it was like their oddball quartet became complete. The nerdy maths major, the hippie smoker, the anime geek recluse, and the total adventure-action nerd (he found that Jake had watched Indiana Jones more times over and in so many different versions than kids Thomas Jefferson was rumored to have). They sat there arguing about who had the shittiest classes and most intense workload―the math geek (his name was Ramon but Dirk preferred to call him math geek) won, naturally. Though Jake’s story of his weird-ass anthro professor with the creepy get-ups, secret rendezvouses with female students and innuendos he spread all through lecture almost took the cake.

Jake seemed to grow more comfortable around him. Dirk would find the other boy’s hands running through his weird stylized cut, or a companionable brush of his knee during the government meetings. Or the soft jokes he’d mutter more frequently into Dirk’s ear, for his private hearing alone. And the late nights they’d spend chatting online about any and everything, or up in Dirk’s roommate-less dorm as they pulled an all-nighter, and then the next day when they’d end up collapsing on top of each other in exhaustion instead.

He learned more about Jake’s worries, fears and dreams than he’d told anyone else. And in turn, he told him things he generally wasn’t very open about: his home life, his Bro, the random robotics experiments and his interest in the morbid facts of history. And maybe he even might have shown Jake a smuppet or two, the favorites that he’d packed away into his suitcase coming to college since he couldn’t quite leave them behind. Jake didn’t even react weirdly to it. He just examined them and asked a shit-ton of questions about the construction and ideation behind them, and then examined them some more. Was this guy cool or what?

No, more than cool. He was amazing. And Dirk liked him.

**xXx**

His shades had been ripped off his face. They were thrown indecorously across the room, cracking as they fell against the side of their pool table.

The flame ate at his skin. Dirk tried to remain stoic, but it was fucking painful. And without his shades he knew Jake could read that in his eyes. He probably fucking reveled in it. Part of his brain automatically went to thoughts of what he’d done wrong. Had he done something to piss Jake off and make him use this type of punishment? But no, this was beyond that. His rational head knew that and he’d known it for a while. The guy looking at him right now wasn’t the guy that he’d started hanging with at the beginning of freshmen year, the one he’d shared secrets with, that sweet, goofy guy he’d fallen head over heels for. This guy was a complete stranger. One who wanted to cause him pain and torture him for whatever reason he did. One that was enjoying it.

Dirk tried to roll over to escape the lighter. Jake kneed him back in place, digging into his stomach. Then a fist slammed into his face. Several times.

 “Why?” he asked when Jake let up, feeling the blood start to pool and the bruises that would rise up.

“I hate you."

"Don’t lie. You're as enamored with me as I am with you. Or else you wouldn't have even stuck around to have your claws in me right now. You’d be terrorizing someone else. Is this another spell, Jake?"

“I hate you. I hate you like I’ve never hated anyone in my life. You disgust me. Your infatuation with your stupid projects, that shit that you call music, your obsession over puppets and your fucking childhood toy.”

“Don’t talk about Lil Cal.”

“Why? He’s already destroyed, dingledong. I took him out of your drawer this morning and sliced him into little pieces, strip by strip.”

“You would never do that. Not even in one of your spells.”

Jake stared at him for a long, silent moment. “…Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do love you.” The lighter was flipped closed. It was stored back in his pocket.

“Right. You do. So release me. We can talk about this. I know you haven’t had one of these moments in a while and it might be frightening or disconcerting, but you’re still Jake English. We can get through this. Just like all the other times.”

“Do you really love me, Dirk?”

“Of course. What kind of brainless question is that? You know I do.”

“I don’t know anymore. Sometimes I can’t tell.”

“It’s the reason we’ve worked so hard to get through this, Jake. Because I love you. Now come on. Let me go.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

Jake unbuttoned his jeans and zipped down his fly. He reached inside his boxers. “Prove it.”

His dick was shoved in front of Dirk’s mouth. Jake stared down at him, looking on with anticipation and certainty. Dirk glared at him.

“So you don’t?” Jake asked him, a taunting smirk hovering on his lips. A thumb circled Dirk's neck again, hovering over the burns and rope-bruises with intent.

Dirk glared more vehemently. He opened his own mouth. Jake’s cock slid inside.

**xXx**

After a particularly drunken party one night, they made their way back to Dirk’s dorm to crash. Jake had always been a touchy-feely drunk and he didn’t disappoint tonight, clinging to Dirk’s waist and laughing a little too loud into Dirk’s ear as he told some slurred joke. When Jake got drunk, he got plastered.

When they let themselves in, Dirk kicked off his boots and peeled off his jacket. Then a drunken Jake half-fell onto the bed and took him along with him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Another hand ran underneath his shirt, trailing over his stomach.

“Hi,” Jake grinned at him.

“Hi yourself. What the fuck are you doing?” Dirk was still sober enough to have some wits about him. He scooted back. Jake scooted closer.

“What? Don’t act like you don’t want it.”

So Jake had noticed after all? He wasn't as transparent as he thought. Regardless though. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I’m not against fellas. Or at least, not against you.” Jake kissed him. It was slightly off-center and much wetter than it probably should have been, but as Jake’s hands went to run over his stomach again Dirk fixed that, kissing him back. This was wrong. Dealing with a guy who was still probably mostly straight was a sure way to heartbreak. Kinda rule number 1. Jake would probably remember this night with chagrin, go to dating and fucking women again afterwards, view Dirk as that best friend that he’d went a bit too far with and was too awkward to be around. And besides, the guy was really fucking intoxicated. There was the whole questionable level of understanding and consent.

But maybe he was just a bad person. Or maybe he was desperate. Because as they kissed further, tongues playing together, fingers gripping backs, hips, crotches, he didn’t stop. He pushed himself into Jake, flipping the guy back onto his bed, yanking off his own shirt and then Jake’s right after it and returning to his body again. Jake wasnt the only drunk and horny one. Maybe he should have a little fun too for once.

And seeing Jake’s expression change from a playful smirk into one of wanton abandon, biting his lip as Dirk licked and sucked a newly formed hickey on his neck, pressing their cocks against one another as they grinded, was totally worth it. Dirk had to admit.

**\---**

They finally started dating a few months after that. Jake didn't retreat from him or start voraciously going after women to get the taste of Dirk off his mind, but he didn't make his interest the most obvious either. If it wasn't for the "accidental" leg brushes, glances that lasted just a second too long, and occasional flirty remarks that got bitten off and tried to pass off as a joke, Dirk wouldn't have thought he was interested at all.

So Dirk took the lead, and after a whirlwind of confusing flirting and innuendoed hints that completely went over both their head sometimes, they finally got together.

There was the whole honeymoon dating phase where they were always around each other and goo-goo for gaga- not that they showed it too openly; Dirk was too cool for that and Jake had the enthusiasm of an infant monkey about everything so no one could tell anyway. And then there came the informing of their families, or basically Dirk's Bro because Jake's version of telling his grandma would involve a graveyard seance. Dave responded as expected.

"Way to go, lil man. My little bro finally got himself a boyfriend. Who's an _anthropology major_..."

"How's your love life going? Still managing to kill broads off your permanent squeeze list date by date?"

"Only every red carpet premiere."

Then it was on. First strife of the holiday to celebrate Dirk's homecoming and his "first love".

**\---**

The mood swings started after they’d began dating, when they moved in together in their 2nd year.

"Where the fuck were you?"

"At the library. Like I said I'd be."

"I called you ten times."

"You know we don't have a signal there."

"You think I'm some cockamamie jive turkey? I KNOW you weren't there. I walked through that entire library looking for you."

"Whoa. What was the fucking red-light emergency?"

"So where were you really? Getting your fun on with some grubby chap from down the way?"

"Are you serious?"

"So I'm right."

Dirk threw a package at him. It hit him in the stomach with a hard thump. "Happy early birthday. Sorry I had to bone a couple dozen men to get it."

He could hear the paper ripping as turned around, could imagine the shock and probable joy on Jake's face as he opened up the Colt revolver, had been imagining it all week. Now he just wished he could shove the thing up Jake’s nostrils.

"I'm sorry."

Dirk kept walking.

"Please, I just snapped. Will you accept the earnest and heartfelt apologies of a dumb fart like me?"

"If you promise to never pull that shit again."

"I promise. Fucking pinky swear on Virgin Mary dunked in holy water herself. Come on."

“…Fine."

Jake's grin was reward enough.

**\---**

He did it again. And again. And by the third time, just as Dirk was ready to call it quits, Jake finally confessed. He had a problem. He couldn't control it. He didn't feel like himself. And he sometimes got these urges. Violent ones. Abusive ones. It was like someone else was trying to take over. They began therapy for him.

Turned out that it wasn't the stress. Or at least curing the stress didn't cure it. And it wasn't exams, because after they were over Jake still flipped out. It wasn't always in paranoid jealousy. Sometimes it was just over small stuff. Spilled cereal in the kitchen. Dirk's parts all over the room whenever he got down and dirty to work on a bot. And one time Dirk came home to find Jake staring at Lil Cal, just staring at him, like they were having some silent conversation only they could understand and Jake's hands were clenching and unclenching like he wanted to be the ultimate champion of it all, the only one left standing. Dirk was unnerved more than he'd ever admit.

So therapy didn't help. They started other measures. Usually Dirk could calm him down when he was in one of his rages, when he wanted to destroy the world and all “the disgusting people in it.” And when that rage was directed at him, he usually either strifed a conflict resolution out of Jake or walked away. It seemed to snap him back to normal.

The sex changed. Jake voiced a desire to "roleplay". Maybe that would help him get out some things. Dirty talk changed to threats of scratching off Dirk's face or eating his skin, bleeding him out until his guts painted a picture all over Jake’s hands. Then Jake fucked him. Dirk was one for kinky sex but damn, sometimes that shit was scary.

Other times, Jake was fine. He'd laugh and joke when they went out with friends, obsess over his morbidly mediocre films and quote them obnoxiously, plan trips to excise his inner adventure demon through mountain-climbing, bungee jumping and whatever other brochures seemed to be tossed his way (and of course he dragged Dirk and his geek squad former roommates along with him). In public it didn't even seem like he had a problem. No one ever noticed. But sometimes Dirk felt Jake's shaking hand grip his. And the sheen that coated his copper face. And he knew he was struggling to maintain the image, to retain himself and keep on going.

**xXx**

Jake facefucked him hard, banging the back of his head against the wall. Fingers dug into Dirk's cheeks. Nails scraped down his face. Dirk just tried not to choke.

Then Jake pulled out and finished himself off, cumming all over Dirk's face. He'd squeezed his eyes shut but he could tell he'd mostly aimed it to land there. Fucker.

"You’re really good, do you know that?"

Dirk managed to open his eyes without having the gunk fall in them. The voice was Jake's post-orgasm. But the face that was looking down at him right now was not. When did it get like this? Where he couldn't even pull his lover out of one of his moods? And he let himself be tied up and fucked? When did _he_ get like this?

"You're a complete champion," Jake continued giving him that smile he now hated. He leaned down and kissed him, pressing their lips hard together. Their teeth clicked. Then Jake pulled back, pulling on Dirk's lip as he did so. He bit down, then snapped it back, releasing it. Dirk could feel the sting of blood beginning to rise.

"Who are you?"

"Has it been that long that we've known each other? That long that you've seen me? And you've never thought to ask who I am?"

"Then tell me."

"I am... the original. I was here long before you or "Jake" even existed and I will remain here long afterwards. I am the beginning. I am the Alpha and the Omega and the only. And I was here watching as you let your loved boyfriend get eaten up and devoured. Until only I remained."

"Yes, got all that like a million bajillion seconds ago but my question is, what's your name?"

"I am English."

**xXx**

The weeks that led up to this night were full of silence. A weird, distant silence where nothing was really said, nothing was really done, and there was a heavy, tangible block between them like some invisible forcefield. Dirk had only tried to break through it once.

Jake was on the couch, watching one of the professional card games he’d taken a fascination to lately. Dirk came and sat by him, staring at his face rather than the TV screen. He raised a hand to run through Jake’s hair. Jake didn’t respond. Dirk sat back.

“This is gonna sound really silly, so I’m sorry in advance for the sentimental feelings of an overbearingly cogitative kid, but you don’t seem like yourself. I sort of miss you.”

On the TV, the final card was played. Hands were flipped. One player won and raked in the money.

Jake turned his head. The bell on the TV called for another round. He turned back.

Dirk’s katana flashed through the air as he sprung up, landing on top of Jake in a sudden leap, sword tip pressed to the other guy’s chest. Any other day he’d probably see Jake’s eyes light up at the threat, and he’d pull a wrestling move that Dirk purposefully left himself open for, to get the strife started. He would laugh. He would smile. He was snap out of it. He would roll with Dirk on the ground and they would give each other battle wounds that weren’t too serious, and sometimes he won and sometimes Dirk did, but either way it led to a heated conversation about anything, everything, and a heated physical session sans clothes afterwards.

Today Dirk stood on top of him, sword pressed to his throat, and Jake just stared. “Get off.”

Two words. A press of his hand against Dirk’s blade and dumping Dirk onto the floor. Then he sat up again and turned up the TV.

Dirk stared at him for a bit longer.

No further response.

Dirk put his katana away. He left.

**xXx**

The cocking sound told him what was coming, even before the revolver was put to his head. Images swam through his head of how this could have gone different, how this could have been avoided, the warning signs. If only he’d listened. If only he hadn’t just accepted it. If only he hadn’t believed without a doubt that this would all come out fine, even when everything was pointing to the opposite. If only he hadn’t let himself get roped. Or pinned down. Or if he’d fought harder, dirtier. Or if he hadn’t trusted Jake in the first place. Or if he’d quit when he could.

Or maybe if he just didn’t think he could do everything. Couldn’t heal Jake. Couldn’t save him. Couldn’t remain with him when the sparks obviously weren’t there anymore. And even more than the sparks. The guy he’d fallen in love with wasn’t there anymore.

_All my friends tell me I should move on  
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song_

And even more on the list of things he could’ve done, was not buy Jake that gun. This was his fucking birthday present pointing at his head right now. Beyond shit levels right here. His AR would probably calculate over 9000.

_Ahhh, that's how you sang it  
Loving you forever, can't be wrong_

“And now it will finally end. Right here, between you and me, Strider.”

“How long have you been waiting for this day, I wonder? Since you met me?”

English was silent. Dirk tried to turn to see him, but he couldn’t really turn much with the bindings. He settled with imagining.

_Even though you're not here, won't move on  
Ahhh, that's how we played it_

_And there's no remedy for memory your face is  
Like a melody, it won't leave my head_

“Just tell me, what did Jake feel in the end? When you won? I know he fought like hell. There’s no way he’d give in to a dickhead like you.”

“He squirmed like a tiny little worm beneath my fingers as I crushed him. He cried and screamed out. He moaned. He bled. Not once did he call out your name. I guess he knew that you were worthless. You couldn’t save him after all.”

Dirk’s lip tightened but he tried not to let it show on his face. Those words probably weren’t even true, just something he told him because he thought it would hurt him most. And it sort of did.

_Your soul is haunting me and telling me  
That everything is fine  
But I wish I was dead_

“Heh. You think this is the end?”

English cocked his head. Dirk could see it out of his peripheral. He smiled.

“I’m going to haunt you, English. I’m going to die and then I’m going to rise and resurrect myself just so I can come back and make your life a living hell. Everything that you did to Jake. All the ways that you fucked with his head and ripped him to shreds? I’m going to do it to you, ten-fold. No, a hundred-fold. That’s a promise I’m going to keep.”

“Hmm. It’s too bad I can’t stand annoying chatter. I feel like you would have made an entertaining pet. Hoo hoo. Hoo hoo hoo hoo. HA HA HEE HEE HAHA HOO HOO. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…”

The bullet shot through his head a second later, splattering his brains on the wall. His body dropped like one of the limp smuppets he hadn’t yet got around to filling with stuffing.

Lord English stood over his body. His lips stretched in a grin.

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

_Every time I close my eyes  
It's like a dark paradise  
No one compares to you  
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side_

_  
Every time I close my eyes  
It's like a dark paradise  
No one compares to you  
 **I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side**_

_**\--** _

_*song is from "Dark Paradise" by Lana Del Rey, also by request_


End file.
